


i'm sorry (if i smothered you)

by doodlingstories



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Angst, Attempt at Humor, Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Hurt Peter Parker, Hurt/Comfort, Identity Reveal, Kidnapping, POV Alternating, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Public Identity Reveal, Secret Identity
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-26
Updated: 2019-02-16
Packaged: 2019-08-07 16:27:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16411925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doodlingstories/pseuds/doodlingstories
Summary: He hears the slap coming before he feels it.“Doc Ock-” Peter begins, but before he gets to say anything, he feels a palm collide to his cheek once more. Ouch. Peter doesn’t cry out from the pain, though. Instead, he smirks, quip already ready on his tongue like his quips usually are.“I’m flattered that you settled for me, don’t get me wrong – but aren’t the Avengers a better option? For, y’know, publicity?” Peter says, watching Doc Ock go back to setting up what seemed like a camera.or; Doc Ock kidnaps Peter, and everything just spirals downwards from there





	1. blood

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Bean_reads_fanfic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bean_reads_fanfic/gifts).



> dedicated to the wonderful emily, i hope you have a wonderful birthday <3
> 
> (unbeta-ed)

He hears the slap coming before he feels it. 

“Doc Ock-” Peter begins, but before he gets to say anything, he feels a palm collide to his cheek once more. _Ouch_. Peter doesn’t cry out from the pain, though. Instead, he smirks, quip already ready on his tongue like his quips usually are. 

“I’m flattered that you settled for me, don’t get me wrong – but aren’t the Avengers a better option? For, y’know, publicity?” Peter says, watching Doc Ock go back to setting up what seemed like a camera. 

Which, _great_. Just what he needed. A recording of… well. Peter isn’t sure just what Doc Ock is gonna do to him, or what he’s gonna record, but he assumes it’s gonna be bad.

(It’s always bad.) 

(The threats of torture and death beforehand had been bad enough, really.)

Doc Ock grunts, “Shut up, Spider.” 

Naturally, Peter doesn’t shut up, “Also – I get that you’re trying to impress me here, with the, uh… are those mechanical legs? Or are they, like, something else?” Doc Ock doesn’t respond. _Figures_.

“Whatever. Anyways, whatever it is, it’s freaky, man. Like, I don’t think that’s natural? You should totally get that checked.” And he’s met with silence once more. _Great_. Just, _awesome_. _Splendid_.

In his head, Peter goes through similar words to distract himself from everything that’s going on.

 _Awesome. Astonishing. Wonderful_.

(He loses count after the words magnificent and wondrous.)

When Doc Ock is done setting up the camera, he turns to Peter, a sly smile on his face. He seems almost giddy, Peter thinks. And, in Peter’s experience, a giddy villain is a crazy villain. _Great_.

“You see this camera? It’s linked to a billboard in Times Square, as well as all the most important news channels.” Doc Ock looks smug, and takes a few steps towards him, smile still etched upon his face.

Peter immediately feels the hairs on his neck shoot straight up, and thinks, _oh shit_.

Doc Ock lets out a small laugh, and tells him, “I bet they’re all excited to know who the… _man_ … behind the mask is. Don’t you? 

Peter splutters out, “Uh, no, I don’t think so, no. Jesus, why do you think I wear a mask? I’m hideous, Doc. _Disfigured_. Honestly, I thought you’d understand, since your hair is… well, you know… like that.” He rambles on, and decides that he’s not going to show him any fear.

(And, if he’s stalling him slightly by doing so? Well, then that’s just a bonus.)

“What are you-”

Peter sighs dramatically before interrupting him, “Your hair is hideous, Doc, is what I’m trying to tell you.”

Doc Ock growls, “Oh, _you little piece of_ \- it doesn’t matter! You’re just trying to distract me!”

(Well. It would’ve been a bonus. If it had worked.)

“What? I’d never- Doc Ock, why would you ever think-”

“My name is Doctor Octavius, and _you will treat me with the respect I deserve_!” he yells, and sets off one of his metal arms to hit Peter across the face. Peter groans slightly at the impact. The hit hurts, _stings_ even, but Peter doesn’t let the hurt show on his face. He’s not going to break.

(He won’t. He won’t. _He won’t_.)

He can taste the blood in his mouth, warm and iron-like, and spits it out. Peter groans once more, and he does it dramatically, because what else can he do but keep on a mask? “God, that’s _disgusting_. Is this how you treat all your friends? _Holy cannoli_.”

“ _We are not_ -! No matter.” Doc Ock hisses, and strides up to him. Without a warning, he rips Peter’s mask off of his face. 

Peter instantly panics, “Holy shit-”

(Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, _fuck_!)

( _This is it_ , Peter thinks. _This is how my world ends. This is how my life ends._ )

He locks his jaw, tries not to let any emotion show on his face. He knows he’s failing, though – his lips are trembling ever so slightly, and his heartbeat beating is loud enough for everyone in the world to hear. 

(He’s not made of iron, like Iron Man. He’s not a soldier, like Captain America. He’s not a spy, like Black Widow.)

(He’s just a boy, scared for his life, trying to survive in a world full of pain and terror.) 

Doc Ock doesn’t say anything. He just stares at Peter, and jots down notes on a notepad whilst his eyes analyze him. He taps his chin, and breaks the silence by saying, “Interesting… So, the Spider-Man is nothing more than a Spider-Boy, hm? Very interesting indeed…”

Peter takes a deep breath, and tries to regain some of his courage, “That’s rude, y’know… just because I look young? Really? You’re gonna give me a nickname based on that?”

“ _Oh, you_ -”

“Also, if you think I look like a boy, doesn’t that make you a pedophile? Like, since this is a date and all- wait, this is a date, right? Or have I been misinterpreting your signals?”

Doc Ock grits his teeth, “Shut your-”

Peter cuts him off and rambles on, like he tends to do in uncomfortable situations, and decides to ignore the increasingly murderous glare that Doc Ock is giving him, “Oh my, I’ve really been- I’m so sorry! See, that’s why I mentioned the Avengers earlier! They’re a much better option, for like, just about everything! I’m not really date material, you see- but I’ve heard that Thor is a surprisingly nice guy, despite his... thundery-ness. Hah. Get it?”

“ _SHUT UP!_ ” Doc Ock roars, and a metal leg slashes across Peter’s face. It stings, and Peter can’t help but let out a small hiss at the pain that he’s now feeling on his cheek.

“I bet this’ll make you shut up, annoying brat.” Doc Ock growls whilst he places his notepad on a table ( _What is it with Doc Ock and growling? That seriously can’t be normal_ ) and then briefly leaves the room. While he’s gone, Peter lets his composure fall slightly, lets his face show what he’s really feeling.

He’s putting on a show for Doc Ock, after all, and not the camera.

When he comes back, he’s dragging something – no, _someone_.

Peter holds his breath, and sits up straight.

(He holds his breath, and his heart along with it.) 

The person Octavius dragged in had long brown hair, already greying slightly. It was clear that it was a woman – that much he could tell. She’s wearing something that Peter feels like he should recognize, and it makes the anxiety he’s already feeling inside grow. 

“Who- _who is that_?” Peter’s cool façade is slowly crumbling into ash, fading away into the wall behind him. 

Octavius smiles. Then, he turns her around.

Peter’s heart stops beating. A hole, growing from the bottom of his stomach, eats and eats until there’s nothing left of him. 

(There’ll be nothing left of her, before he turns into nothingness.)

“What- what did you do,” Peter breathes out. He tugs on the restraints, trying to reach for her.

She’s not only not responsive – she’s bloody all over, almost like… no. No. _No_. He won’t have another parent bleeding to death in front of him. _He won’t accept it_. It can’t be – it’s not. It’s not. _It’s not_. 

(But what if it is?)

Octavius just laughs at Peter’s abrupt change in demeanor, and drags his Aunt May closer to him.

(It is. It is. It is.)

“ _WHAT DID YOU DO!_ ” he now roars, the color red filling his vision. He sees red, only red, and it is anger, it is madness, it is insanity.

(In reality, though, the red isn’t anger nor madness nor insanity.) 

(It’s only blood. Her blood.)

He tugs and tugs, no real strength behind it, since he feels weak at the sight of her like that. 

Octavius grins, “Not so tough now, Spider? Don’t worry – she’s not dead. _Yet_.” 

Relief fills Peter’s lungs at those words – she’s breathing and she’s alive. She’s not dead. She’s breathing, she’s alive, she’s not dead. She is breathing, she is alive, she is not dead.

(He repeats those words inside his head like they mean something.)

(They don’t only mean _something_ , though. _They mean everything_.)

“So… your… loved ones. That’s what makes you crack? Not threats of torture, not threats of death, not exposure… but _her_ in pain?”

Peter snarls, “Let her go. She’s not a part of this.”

Octavius laughs, “How exciting!” he claps his hands together, “This experiment has certainly proved to be quite effective, don’t you think?”

Peter isn’t laughing, though. He’s not forgotten Octavius’ words about his aunt not being dead _yet_ , heavy emphasis on the word _yet_.

“I’m warning you, Octavius.” Peter warns in a low voice, no longer in the mood for chatter.

(Afterwards, when he’s had time to reflect, he’ll remember this. He’ll remember the warning, and he’ll remember staying true to his words.)

Octavius scoffs, “You’re tied up. Your warnings do not phase me.”

“Don’t make me say I told you so,” Peter grunts, and then he _pulls_ , _tugs_ , _pulls_ on the cuffs that are keeping him contained. He lets out a little scream from the straining, but he knows the pain of strong metal tight against his skin will all be worth it in the end. 

His cuffs _shatter_ , crumbles to pieces like it was made of glass. Peter feels his skin burning with anger, rage and other feelings he’s too scared and angry to think about.

(He’s feeling _murderous_ – he’s not quite sure what to do with that feeling.) 

He sees Octavius look at him in shock, mouth agape, not entirely sure what to do. 

“You can touch me. You can torture me. You can _kill_ me. _But you do not touch her_!” Peter seethed.

Peter lunges forward. He punches Octavius, once, twice, thrice, and then he loses count, loses his sense of time. Peter punches him once “ _YOU_ -”, twice “ _DON’T_ -”, thrice “ _TOUCH_ -”, time is lost “ _HER_!” 

Octavius, with his metal hands, isn’t completely useless despite Peter’s rage. He manages to use his mechanical arms to drag himself away from Peter. And he’s fast, fast enough to get away from Peter’s grasp.

Peter is faster.

Octavius slithers away, up against the wall, like a real octopus. It doesn’t really work, though. A spider never eats their prey on the floor, after all.

Peter knows he’s at a disadvantage without his webs – and so, he uses Octavius’s best weapon against him. Peter hurls himself towards the wall, like a predator hunting its prey, and goes for the metal arms. He uses his feet to keep Octavius from escaping, whilst his arms hold onto the metallic arms. He rips them off, bends them with ease, and traps a resisting Octavius under them.

Peter lets go off the wall, and lands in a crouch, hand touching the ground slightly. He stands up straight, fire still blazing in his eyes, and walks up to a terrified Octavius.

Peter breathes heavily through his nose, and says in a low voice, “I only have her left. Did you know that? I’m sure you knew that. But you didn’t care, did you? You don’t give a shit. You only care about yourself, and your god damned projects, and about ruining lives, and about taking and taking but _never giving back_.”

“I- I didn’t-”

“ _SHUT THE FUCK UP!_ ” Peter bellows as he slams his hand onto Octavius’ neck. He presses, harder and harder until he can feel him struggling to breathe, struggling to keep himself alive.

His face is white when Peter snarls at him, “ _You do not touch her_.” 

Peter lets go off his neck, and watches as Octavius wheezes, tries to catch up his breath. Peter lets him have a moment of fake hope, hope that he’ll be spared. And then he does it again.

“Peter, I think it’s time for you to stop.” A familiar voice says, and it’s so faint, so insignificant.

“ _Shut up_ …” he says through gritted teeth, hand still choking Octavius.

“Pete… you’re gonna regret this tomorrow.”

“ _I SAID SHUT UP_!”

“ _May wouldn’t want this, Peter_!”

And it’s this, the reminder of his aunt, that makes Peter snap back into reality. He lets go, and watches as Octavius’ head goes limp along with the rest of his body. He hears the faint voice of FRIDAY, saying that he’s only unconscious.

“What did…” Peter looks down at his hands, bloodied and bruised. “I nearly… I almost… I- I could’ve killed him. I nearly- I”

“But you didn’t. And that’s all that counts.” Tony is there, and he slowly takes Peter’s hands, tugs him softly away from the scene. It’s only then that Peter notices the other Avengers are there as well; War Machine and Captain America and Black Widow.

Peter swallows, “I- I- May is-”

“Already taken care of. She's gonna be fine, kid. Just- let’s go home first, alright?”

Peter tries to listen to Tony’s comforting words, but all he finds himself doing is staring down at his own hands, shaking in fear of himself.


	2. stains

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Whatever. Anyways, whatever it is, it’s freaky, man. Like, I don’t think that’s natural? You should totally get that checked.” 
> 
> No.
> 
> Tony whips his head back towards the screen. His heart sinks to the bottom of his stomach.
> 
> The sight that greets him once he looks at the screen is this: Spider-Man tied to a chair with restraints made of metal, with cuts all over him. Which, that shouldn’t have been possible, because Tony made the damn suit with everything in mind, and oh god, oh god, oh god.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> un-betaed

“Boss, you may want to see this.”  
  
Tony watches FRIDAY pull up a video in front of him. He furrows his eyebrows in confusion, because so far, the only thing the video is showing him is a man with an ugly haircut and goggles that practically screamed mad evil scientist. Tony looks up at the ceiling, and is about to tell FRIDAY off for interrupting his work only to show him some weird guy putting up a camera to do god knows what – 

Then, he learns the reason FRIDAY pulled up the video in the first place.

“ _Whatever. Anyways, whatever it is, it’s freaky, man. Like, I don’t think that’s natural? You should totally get that checked._ ” 

_No._

Tony whips his head back towards the screen. His heart sinks to the bottom of his stomach.

The sight that greets him once he looks at the screen is this: Spider-Man tied to a chair with restraints made of metal, with cuts all over him. Which, that shouldn’t have been possible, because Tony made the damn suit with everything in mind, and _oh god, oh god, oh god_.

“FRIDAY, give me their location. _Now!_ ” Tony barks, and runs out the door towards the launchpad. It feels like his suit is taking longer than usual to close in around him when he stands there. He needs to hurry, god damn it. 

He’s about to take off, when FRIDAY tells him “I’m afraid I can’t locate them, boss… I’m sorry.” 

“ _What the hell do you mean_ \- oh, _fuck_ it. Initiate _Code Red Arachnid_.”

“Are you sure you want to initiate-”

“Yes, _yes_ , of course I’m sure, Jesus fuck!”

Tony wills his suit to fly faster, to reach Peter before it’s too late.

(It doesn’t work.)

(“ _Holy cannoli!_ ” and “ _Holy shit!_ ” are the last words Tony hears Peter utter on the screen before he takes off.  On any other day, Tony would’ve snorted at Peter’s exclamation of “ _Holy Cannoli!_ ”

Today, not even a breath passes his lips.)

 

 

 

 

“Tony? What’s the meaning of this?”

“I know you’re in New York, and I know the rest of the ex-Avengers are with you. I need your help, Steve.” 

“… We’re on our way.”

 

 

 

 

It takes less than five minutes with everyone’s help to find Peter. They manage to arrive just before Peter kills Otto Octavius; they manage to arrive just after the damage has been done.

Peter stares at his blood-stained hands aghast. Tony isn’t quite sure what to say. Should he tell Peter it’s all gonna be fine? Or should he tell him the truth, bad as it may be? 

(Tony can practically see Obadiah’s shadow lurking behind him when he thinks about blood-stained hands and gospel truths.)

(It won’t be fine. Nothing will ever be the same.)

“I’m so sorry,” Peter suddenly blurts out. His eyes never waver; he keeps gazing at his hands, forever fixated on the blood, “but I couldn’t- I- she’d be dead, too, Tony, just like mom and dad and Ben and Gwen and- and I- I haven’t got anyone else, I don’t, and I can’t- and I know it’s wrong and I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry- I don’t want to be alone and- and-”

“Oh Pete,” Tony says mournfully, “nothing about this is your fault, so stop being sorry about it. And you wouldn’t be alone without May. You’ve got Ned, you’ve got MJ, you’ve got all of the Avengers. Hell, even Happy. And you’ve got -” _me, you’ve got me, kiddo,_ “loads of other people that care. Got it? You’re not alone. And if I’ll have a say in it, you never will be, either.”

“And you.” Peter whispers.

“Huh?”

“I’ve got you, too.” Peter voices what Tony hadn’t managed to, just says it outright as it is.

Tony swallows away tears that threaten to escape. He doesn’t say anything back, though. Instead he embraces the boy he’s grown to care for as his own son, hoping that his thoughts are loud enough for Peter to hear what he’s too afraid to voice. 

(I love you, I love you, _I love you_.)

 

 

 

 

The silence in Midtown High’s canteen is unlike anything Ned has ever experienced before. _You could drop a pin, and everyone would hear it_ , Ned thinks.

His day had started off like it usually did. He came early to meet up with Peter by the locker (who didn’t show up that day, but it was okay, because he’d sent a message telling him he had ‘internship’ stuff to deal with), and went on with his classes like he usually did. He tried (and failed) at flirting with Betty.

But then again, is it failing when it seems like she has taken a liking to Ned? Ned doesn’t think so. 

“Why’s everyone so silent?” Ned ponders out loud, and looks over at MJ. But when he looks over at MJ, he isn’t met with the nonchalant expression he’s come to familiarize himself with. Instead, her jaw is wide open, and there’s a so blatantly shocked expression etched upon her face that Ned does a double take when he looks at her. 

“Uhm- MJ?” 

MJ doesn’t say anything. She just points wordlessly at the television screen perched up in the corner on the opposite end of the room.

A cold feeling washes over Ned unlike anything he’s ever felt before.

“ _Interesting… So, the Spider-Man is nothing more than a Spider-Boy, hm? Very interesting indeed…_ ”

 _Fuck_.

Up on the screen is Peter.

(His Peter, his childhood friend, his best friend.) 

Peter’s brown hair is unruly and stained with something red. (Is it blood? _Oh god, please don’t be blood, please don’t be blood, please don’t be blood_.). He’s got cuts all over his face, and though he’s smiling widely at the camera, there’s still a glint of terror in his eyes, a glint you’d only know if you were close to Peter.

“ _That’s rude, y’know… just because I look young? Really? You’re gonna give me a nickname based on that?_ ”

It’s Peter’s sarcasm that shakes Ned out of his trance. He scrambles to get his backpack off his shoulders, and begins rummaging through his stuff.

“Ned, what the _hell_ are you doing, Peter is-” MJ begins with a hiss, but Ned cuts her off. 

“Don’t nag, MJ, I haven’t got the patience for that right now. C’mon, c’mon, c’mon, where the fuck did I… there it is!”

He pulls out his phone with shaking hands (which, when had that happened? Ned decides not to dwell on that right now.). He nearly loses the phone with how much his hands are shaking, but somehow manages to both open it and press the number he’d been looking for.

“Oh,” is all MJ says when she realizes what he’s doing. 

The screen on Ned’s phone reads this: 

_CALLING NOT-SO-HAPPY HOGAN_

The phone rings one, two, three times. Ned’s heart beats along with it, slow and steady, like it’s bracing itself for the storm that’s coming. 

Happy doesn’t pick up.

“ _FUCK!_ ” Ned cries out, and he can’t breathe, because holy shit, that’s his best friend up there, that’s his life on the line on the fucking television for everyone to see and he can’t, he can’t- 

“Ned, it’s okay, there’s nothing you can do-”

“ _SHUT UP! I bet this’ll make you shut up, annoying brat._ ”

It’s the giddy voice of the man behind the camera that makes Ned’s eyes shoot up to the screen once more. 

Ned watches him drag someone in the room, but the head of the person is just out of frame, so he can’t work out who it is. 

“ _Who- who is that?_ ” he hears Peter ask. He’s still wearing his mask firmly, intent on not letting anything slip through.

(Ned knows better, though. Because that’s _his_ Peter. His Peter, his childhood friend, his best friend.)

“ _What- what did you do,_ ”

Something happens out of the frame, but it seems to have an impact on Peter, because his false display of serenity decays in the matter of mere seconds.

“ _WHAT DID YOU DO!_ ”

Peter’s screams pierce his ears in a way he’s never felt before. The anguish shoots through the screen and into the canteen, darkening every aspect of the room, staining it with something dark and somber.

“ _Not so tough now, Spider? Don’t worry – she’s not dead. Yet._ ”

Ned closes his eyes, and waits for another piercing scream.

Only, it doesn’t come.

“ _So… your… loved ones. That’s what makes you crack? Not threats of torture, not threats of death, not exposure… but her in pain?_ ”

“ _Let her go. She’s not a part of this._ ”

“ _How exciting! This experiment has certainly proved to be quite effective, don’t you think?_ ” 

Then, as if someone had turned on a switch, Peter’s expression changes into something else. His eyes turn wicked and sinister. It’s a darkness unlike anything Ned has ever witnessed in his short life. 

“ _I’m warning you, Octavius._ ”

It’s so unsettling to watch his best friend whom he knows to be so kind and good twist his face into something so… unrecognizable.

Then, something even more unsettling happens. Peter shatters the metal cuffs that are keeping him tied up, rage building up.

“Holy fuck!” Ned faintly hears Flash exclaim, voicing what everyone is thinking.

Peter’s cup is more than running over.

(How can someone so small be filled with so much rage, rage that usually is kept hidden, far away from the eyes of his loved ones?)

Ned doesn’t so much as flinch when Peter beats up the man that kidnapped him. How can he, when he’s paralyzed by the shock he feels of watching his best friend behave in a way he has never seen? 

(Had it truly been only yesterday, when Peter and Ned had discussed in detail whether it’d been Han who shot first or not?)

It’s like watching a darker version of Tom and Jerry, where the only ending was blood, gore and all things dark.

(Yesterday feels like forever ago when he watches the things Peter does on the screen.)

 “ _I only have her left. Did you know that? I’m sure you knew that. But you didn’t care, did you? You don’t give a shit. You only care about yourself, and your god damned projects, and about ruining lives, and about taking and taking but never giving back._ ”

“ _I- I didn’t-_ ”

“ _SHUT THE FUCK UP!_ ”

And then Peter is squeezing, choking the man slowly to death, telling the man with the weird goggles, “ _You do not touch her_.”

(Peter tells the man, but something tells Ned that this is a warning to everyone who had ever planned on hurting his family.) 

“ _Peter, I think it’s time for you to stop._ ” 

Ned releases the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding at the sound of another superhero.

(Please help him, please help him, _please, I beg you, help him_.)

“ _Shut up_ …”  
  
“ _Pete… you’re gonna regret this tomorrow._ ” 

“ _I SAID SHUT UP!_ ”

“ _May wouldn’t want this, Peter_!”

His hands fall quickly at the mention of his aunt.

When Peter looks back at Tony, his face gets in clear view once more. He looks broken and so utterly dejected, that Ned nearly doesn’t recognize his face. He can practically feel the despondency exuding off of Peter through the screen; he can almost taste it, even. 

(Peter looks like he’s inhaling his own despondency.) 

(Is that possible, Ned wonders, to breathe in a feeling, inhale it until it fills your lungs and heart wholly with it?)

“ _What did… I nearly… I almost… I- I could’ve killed him. I nearly- I_ ”

“ _But you didn’t. And that’s all that counts._ ”

“ _I- I- May is-_ ”

“ _Already taken care of. It’s gonna be fine, kid. Just- let’s go home first, alright?_ ” 

Ned watches as Peter looks down at his bloodied hands, trembling in the aftermath of it all. And then, he does what Ned had expected him to do the moment he saw May’s motionless body on the screen.

Peter breaks down crying.

“ _I’m so sorry, but I couldn’t- I- she’d be dead, too, Tony, just like mom and dad and Ben and Gwen and- and I- I haven’t got anyone else, I don’t, and I can’t- and I know it’s wrong and I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry-_ ”

The screen goes black before anyone gets to hear Tony’s response.

The silence that had cloaked Midtown High’s canteen disappears, and is replaced by hushed whispers, speculations and presumed falsities. 

It’s only when Ned tries to distract himself from his whispering peers that he looks down at the device in his hands, and finally notices the lost call on his phone.

_1 LOST CALL: UNKNOWN NUMBER_

There’s also an unread message from the same unknown number. Ned opens the message.

_Peter is still in shock. May is recovering._

_TS_

Ned puts the phone away, and prays that it’ll all be okay in the morning.

(Ned knows it won’t be, but he’ll still pray.)

 

 

 

 

(All around New York, the citizens voice their thoughts and opinions. Peter never hears any of it.)

 

 

 

 

(“ _Holy shit._ ” Most people say. 

“ _He’s just a kid…_ ” Most people say.

“ _I’m praying the Avengers are on their way to rescue him… poor boy._ ” Most people say.

“ _He nearly killed that man!_ ” Most people say. 

“ _I knew Spider-Man was dangerous – this is proof!_ ” Some people say.

“ _Shit, he’s strong as hell, what the fuck. Weren’t the accords supposed to prevent people like him?_ ” Some people say.

“ _All I know is that if that were me, tied up and forced to watch my only family being dragged around, I’d probably do the same thing._ ” Some people say.

What they all say, is this: “ _What’s gonna happen next?_ ”)

 

 

 

 

(Miles away from New York City, Peter sits next to a hospital bed designed to hold superheroes. On it, lays a middle-aged woman, with so many tubes and wires placed inside her aging body that the boy isn’t sure where the tubes and wires end, and where his aunt begins.

“I’m sorry,” he’d told them all, shaking in fear of himself.

But the truth was far more complicated than that. He was not shaking in fear of himself because he felt regret, or any of the sort.

Because Peter Parker was not sorry for nearly killing Otto Octavius with his bare hands.)

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much for all the lovely comments - it really helped me on days where i felt down whilst i was away visiting my family in a country with virtually no internet


	3. interlude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Betty Brant doesn’t experience shock the way others do. It rolls off of her, like droplets of water. If the droplets don’t roll off of her, they usually just disappear, drying out into nothing but air. 
> 
> (There is a reason she wants to become a reporter, after all.)
> 
> When she sees her kindhearted classmate being revealed as Spider-Man, the droplets stay on her like glue.

Betty Brant doesn’t experience shock the way others do. It rolls off of her, like droplets of water. If the droplets don’t roll off of her, they usually just disappear, drying out into nothing but air.

(There is a reason she wants to become a reporter, after all.)

When she sees her kindhearted classmate being revealed as Spider-Man, the droplets stay on her like glue.

The first thought that should fill her mind is probably something like, ‘ _what the hell_ , or, ‘ _oh my god_ ’. 

Instead she just feels her mind go blank, unable to find the right words for the situation at hand.

She glances around the room and sees that her fellow peers seem to be thinking the same thing that Flash had uttered. _Holy fuck_. When her eyes fall upon Ned, she doesn’t see the shock that everyone else seems to be feeling. She sees something deeper; an expression that only someone in the know would’ve worn. 

She glances back up and winces when Peter slams his hand on the wicked man's throat.

When the screen goes black, Betty promises silently that she won’t treat Peter differently for having a moment of weakness.

(Whether or not she’ll be able to hold that silent promise is another thing.

Only time will tell.)

 

 

 

 

“Holy fuck!” Flash exclaims, mouth and eyes wide open. 

“ _I only have her left. Did you know that? I’m sure you knew that. But you didn’t care, did you? You don’t give a shit. You only care about yourself, and your god damned projects, and about ruining lives, and about taking and taking but never giving back._ ”

“ _I- I didn’t-_ ”

“ _SHUT THE FUCK UP!_ ”

Flash had pushed Peter. Flash had tripped Peter. Flash had hit Peter.

Flash had been an absolute piece of shit to someone he thought of as a hero (because _Peter fucking Parker_ was _Spider-Man_ , of all people), and feels the regret blossoming from the black pit that is his heart. 

“Dude, Parker could’ve ended you if he wanted to,” Jason Ionello tells him in a hushed whisper after the live video ends.

Flash goes white, and simply whispers back, “Nah. He’s too much of a pussy.”

Not even Flash believes the words that come out of his mouth after what they’ve just seen. 

 

(Most nights, after his father had finished punishing Flash for being the piece of shit that he is, Flash nursed his wounds with tears in his eyes and hoped that Spider-Man would come rescue him.

Now, he hopes that Spider-Man won’t kill him before his father inevitably does.)

 

 

 

 

Liz knows something is wrong when Cindy Moon sends her a message full of concern. 

 _just watched the news, are you okay?_  

Liz stares at her phone in total confusion before deciding to check the news to know what the hell Cindy is talking about. She pulls up The Daily Globe on her phone for the latest news. Her world stops spinning when she sees the headline. 

 

_Spider-Man Unmasked: Spider-Man or Spider-Boy?_

_by: Barney Bushkin_

_Updated: 2 minutes ago_

 

Underneath is a picture of Peter Parker. Her head spins and spins, and the only thing that goes through her mind is images of her own father trying to murder the boy that was supposed to be her homecoming date. 

Her phone vibrates, and she sees a new message from her own mother.

_Get ready, we’re gonna go see your father once I get home_

She closes her phone and takes a deep breath.

(Liz ends up staying at home.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me: this is gonna be 3 parts  
> also me: adds an 'interlude'
> 
> why am i like this

**Author's Note:**

> lol, i don't know when i'll get to writing the next part because i've got like...... a LOT of WIPs but oh well!!!! lmao


End file.
